


Emergency Contact

by WritingScribe



Series: Things to read in quarantine [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23396677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingScribe/pseuds/WritingScribe
Summary: Derek gets shot and lands up in hospital. Stiles is his emergency contact.T rating because of injury, but nothing dramatic.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski
Series: Things to read in quarantine [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676863
Comments: 2
Kudos: 66





	Emergency Contact

Stiles had barely rolled into bed before his phone was ringing. He groaned, seriously considering not answering it, but if somebody was phoning him at two o’clock in the morning, he figured it was probably an emergency, so he half-rolled, half-fell out of bed and grabbed it from where he had left it on his desk.

“’Lo?” he yawned, answering it without bothering to check who was calling. There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.

“Is this Mr Stilinski?” an unfamiliar voice asked. Stiles blinked himself slightly more awake, frowning. His dad was in bed, Stiles had heard him go up a few hours ago, so why would a stranger be phoning him in the middle of the night?

“Yeah,” he said. “Unless you’re looking for John Stilinski, in which case this is not him.”

“No, we’re looking for a… M. Stilinski?” the guy on the other end said, like it was a question. Stiles tapped his finger on his leg.

“This is definitely him,” he said. “Is everything okay?”

“Mr Stilinski, we have you registered as the emergency contact for Derek Hale,” came the reply, and Stiles jerked upright, fully awake.

“What happened?” he demanded, his grip tightening on his phone. “Is he okay?”

“He’s been shot,” the guy replied bluntly. “Somebody found him lying on the side of the road and brought him to the hospital.”

“Shot?” Stiles repeated, feeling numb. Derek could heal from bullet wounds. Why wasn’t he healing?

“It appears that the bullet was laced with some sort of poison,” the guy continued and, well, that answered that question. “The bullet is no longer in his body, but the   
whatever was on it is still affecting him. We need permission before we can perform surgery.”

“I’m on my way,” Stiles said and hung up. It was only when he was well on his way to the hospital that he thought to wonder why he was Derek’s emergency contact.

Melisa met him at the front desk, looking anxious and strained.

“It’s in his leg,” she told Stiles quietly, “so we have a little time before it gets to his heart, but I don’t know what to do about the doctors.”

Stiles nodded shakily.

“I brought a blowtorch,” he said, dropping his voice and shifting his backpack on his shoulder. “Do you think we can get to see him alone? My dad could probably cordon him off because he was shot…”

Melissa nodded slowly, frowning slightly.

“We still need a doctor for the hospital admin,” she said. Stiles shifted his backpack on his shoulder again.  
“Leave that to me,” he said.

Noshiko Yukimura arrived in a commotion, slamming her way through the hospital doors and demanding to see her patient. The people in the ER looked at her in astonishment, but she ignored them, her gaze zeroing in on Stiles.

“I hope you haven’t let anyone treat him,” she said coldly. Stiles shook his head quickly.

“No, Dr Yukimura,” he said. “But they weren’t happy about it.”

“It’s highly irregular,” the doctor standing beside him confirmed, frowning. “We believe Mr Hale is dying and will not make it without medical assistance.”

Noshiko looked at him coldly.

“Well then it is a good thing I’m here.”

They made their way into Derek’s room, Noshiko “allowing” Melissa to assist her. She closed the door carefully behind them and made sure to lock it to avoid any unwanted visitors. Stiles, standing beside Derek’s bed, waited until she had finished before turning to the werewolf.

“Oh man, he’s gonna kill me,” he muttered and before he could talk himself out of it, punched Derek as hard as he could in the face. He jerked awake with a snarl, his eyes flashing, long teeth snapping as Stiles jerked back. Noshiko was beside him in an instant, holding him down.

“Derek wait, it’s me!” Stiles shouted. Derek snarled again once before his eyes flickered back to their normal colour, his fangs pulling back into his gums.

“Stiles,” he gasped out. Stiles grabbed his arm.

“It’s okay,” he said quietly, “you’re okay. You’ve been shot with a wolfsbane bullet, we’re gonna have to burn it out, okay?”

Derek nodded, his face tight with pain. Stiles released him and grabbed his backpack from beside his feet, fishing the mini blowtorch out. Derek grimaced when he saw it, but pushed his head back into the pillows, staring fixedly at the ceiling.

“Ready?” Stiles asked quietly. Noshiko and Melissa both nodded from where they were leaning down on Derek’s shoulders and he said, “Do it.”

Stiles nodded once and flicked the blowtorch on. The flame leapt out, burning bright blue, and Stiles gritted his teeth as he leaned over Derek’s leg. As soon as the   
flame made contact with the wound, Derek howled in pain, thrashing on the bed. Noshiko abandoned his shoulder to fall on his kicking leg, trying desperately to hold it still long enough for Stiles to finish. Stiles’ other hand found its way up to Derek’s and he grabbed his fingers. Derek gripped him back so tightly that Stiles swore he felt his bones creak, but he didn’t pull away.

“It’s okay, don’t worry, it’s almost done,” he babbled, not quite sure when he had started speaking. “The bullet’s out, we just have to burn the wolfsbane out, you’re okay, don’t worry.”

Finally, after far too long a time, Derek’s healing kicked in and the wound closed. Stiles jerked the blowtorch back, letting out a sigh of relief. Derek collapsed back against the pillows bonelessly, his fingers still curled around Stiles’. Noshiko straightened up slowly.

“We’ll have to get him out of here,” she said quietly. Stiles nodded and Melissa leaped into action.

“I’ll go get a wheelchair,” she said. “Don’t let anyone come in here.”

She disappeared and Stiles looked back at Derek. His eyes were closed, and he was still breathing heavily, but colour was returning to his cheeks and his breaths were   
slowly evening out. His fingers twitched where they lay curled around Stiles’. Stiles squeezed his hand.

They stayed like that until Melissa returned, pushing ahead of her a wheelchair piled high with blankets. Derek’s eyes cracked open and he lifted his head to look at her.

“I can walk,” he protested, his voice rough and dry. Stiles rolled his eyes, leaning across the bed to pick up the glass of water sitting on the table with his free hand. He held it out to Derek, who scowled at him before lifting his head slightly. Stiles tipped the glass against his mouth, watching carefully as he swallowed to make sure no water spilled. When he finished it, he let his head fall back onto the pillows.

Still standing near the door, Melissa looked out into the corridor nervously.

“We need to go,” she said, pushing the wheelchair closer to the bed. Stiles nodded, sliding an arm under Derek’s shoulders and helping him sit up. On his other side, Noshiko did the same.

He grimaced in pain as they helped him move from the bed to the chair, settling into it with a wince. Melissa quickly covered him in far more blankets than necessary before pushing the brakes off with her feet and wheeling him out of the room. Derek glanced back over his shoulder and caught Stiles’ eye. Something in him seemed   
to settle because his expression relaxed, and he turned around again. Without thinking too hard about it, Stiles reached out and touched Melissa’s shoulder. She glanced back at him, pausing in front of the lift. He gestured at the chair.

“May I?” he asked quietly. Melissa glanced quickly between him and Derek and smiled slightly, stepping back to let Stiles take her place. Stiles briefly rested his hand on Derek’s shoulder as the lift dinged and the doors slid open.

They made it out of the hospital without any trouble, which Stiles attributed more to Derek’s scowl than anything else. Stiles’ Jeep was parked across two spaces, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. Derek managed to lever himself out of the wheelchair on his own, glaring at Stiles when he moved forward to help him. He stepped back again, his hands held up in surrender. Derek climbed into the car and slammed the door shut behind him. Noshiko raised an eyebrow. Stiles grimaced.

“He’s grateful,” he said. “He just doesn’t know how to emote like a normal human.”

“Stiles!” Derek snapped from behind his closed window.

“Wow, he is really loud,” Stiles muttered, glancing at Derek before turning back to Melissa and Noshiko.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “Really.”

They smiled at him and he climbed into the driver’s seat, deliberately not looking at Derek as he put on his seatbelt and started the engine.

They drove in silence, the wheels rumbling on the road beneath them, and Stiles could feel Derek’s tension coming off him in waves. The journey seemed to take much longer than it usually did, and when Stiles stopped outside the loft, he unlocked the doors but left the engine running, expecting Derek to make a break for it as quickly as he could. When he didn’t, Stiles turned to look at him. He was staring down at his hands resting on his knees, his fingers curling into fists before relaxing again.

After a long moment, Derek looked at him.

“No questions?” he asked, somehow managing to sound nervous and annoyed at the same time. Stiles frowned.

“Questions about what?” he asked. Derek just looked at him.

“Oh, you mean the emergency contact thing?” Stiles asked, realising. “I mean, I just figured it was because I was the sheriff’s kid, you know? I can get into places the others can’t.”

He shrugged.

“Also, I s’pose there’s the human thing, but if you ended up somewhere with a mountain ash barrier, they probably wouldn’t be calling your emergency contact, so…”

He frowned slightly.

“Actually, come to think of it, wouldn’t a werewolf have been a better option? Most people have family as their emergency contact, but for you that would be Peter and   
I totally get not wanting that, but why not one of your betas? Or Scott?”

Derek glanced away from him, out the front windscreen, before he looked back at Stiles.

“I don’t trust Scott,” he said bluntly. Stiles’ lips quirked up on one side.

“You don’t trust anyone,” he pointed out. Derek’s gaze flicked away from him.

“I trust you,” he said quietly. Stiles opened his mouth and then closed it again.

“I – I don’t – “ he stammered. “But you – you hate me!”

Derek pressed his lips together.

“I don’t hate you,” he said, frowning like he was trying to find the right words. “You frustrate me. You’re human, and breakable, and you spend way too much time running into danger that you have no business being a part of, but… that’s why.”

He shrugged helplessly.

“Because I know that, as much as you might tell Scott to leave me to die – “

Stiles cleared his throat.

“ – you never would.”

He looked across at Stiles again.

“You’re the linchpin of the packs, Stiles,” he said quietly. “The only reason we actually get along, the only reason we can work together. Without you, the wolves of Beacon Hills would be in a much worse place that we are right now.”

And with that he climbed out of the car, leaving Stiles quietly reeling from his revelations.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why a hospital would stick Derek in a ward without hooking him up to any machines, they just do.  
> My idea is that sometime between the war and now Noshiko would have studied at med school and is therefore an official doctor who could operate if necessary. I'm pretty sure real hospitals don't work like this, but, well, this isn't a real hospital. Maybe the Hales have enough money that people just look the other way. Sure, let's go with that.


End file.
